


questions, answers

by boltlightning



Category: Final Fantasy VII (Video Game 1997), Final Fantasy VII Remake (Video Game 2020)
Genre: Gen, Mentions of PTSD, Missing Scene, bodyguard dynamic, briefly references one (1) scene from the remake but is original-compliant, more wall market shenanigans, you know how it is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-21
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-13 02:40:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28896015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boltlightning/pseuds/boltlightning
Summary: “I have some questions,” he says without preamble.“And I have answers,” Aerith chirps. Her eyes brighten, and she leans forward with her arms crossed on the table in front of her. “Shoot.”Cloud gets clarification on his unceremonious boot from the Gainsborough home.
Relationships: hints of aerith/cloud
Comments: 2
Kudos: 20





	questions, answers

They pause in their odyssey through Wall Market for one merciful second to have a cup of coffee.

The restaurant opposite the colosseum has a coffee menu, hidden in shadow behind the bright lights of its main entrees. Yet the bartender seems to perk up when Cloud asks for two cups of their house roast, and soon enough, he and Aerith are sitting at one of the outdoor tables with cute little mugs of steaming coffee in front of them.

Cloud is used to shitty coffee. As he takes a tentative sip, he is expecting the same gritty, watered down coffee he had had every day in basic training, then twice every day as a Shinra trooper. But the roast is smooth and fragrant, with a mild acidity that tingles on his tongue.

It soothes his nerves more than he thought possible, and chases away the blur of exhaustion at the edge of his vision.

Aerith sits across from him and adds milk, no sugar. She watches him expectantly; something tells him she knew this place would exceed his expectations. Cloud schools his face into neutrality.

“I have some questions,” he says without preamble.

“And I have answers,” Aerith chirps. Her eyes brighten, and she leans forward with her arms crossed on the table in front of her. “Shoot.”

“Your mom.” Cloud immediately regrets starting this conversation this way, but continues awkwardly, “She asked me to leave in the night. Without you.”

Cloud expects Aerith to flinch or gasp, but instead she tilts her head and nods. “That certainly sounds like her.”

“She also asked me to never speak to you again.”

Aerith pauses briefly, no more than a few seconds. Despite only meeting Aerith earlier that day, Cloud recognizes the hesitation as unusual — a sign he had struck a nerve. He has surprised her. “That sounds like her, too,” she acquiesces.

“So why did she ask me to stay the night? She doesn’t seem to like SOLDIER.” He takes a pointed sip of his coffee, watching her carefully over the rim of the wide mug.

Cloud would not divulge the specifics of his conversation with Elmyra. _You boys traded a normal life for power,_ she had told him, her voice bladed and sharp like no sword Cloud had ever known. Some small, forgotten part of Cloud had cried, indignant and afraid, _I didn’t choose this I didn’t choose this I didn’t choose this_ accompanied by a fresh ripple of pain through his skull.

Forcefully, he pushes the memories away.

“My mom is always trying to protect me. I guess there are worse things a mother can do.” She shrugs nonchalantly.

“And why do you need protecting?”

“I don’t.” Aerith meets his eyes with a silent challenge for him to object. “She and you just think I'm a handful who needs watching. At least you have that in common!”

“You _hired_ me to watch you,” Cloud snaps.

She meets his ire with a simple smile. Again, he had only known her a short time, and he feels he is slowly learning her tricks — but he is constantly impressed by how easily she disarms his poor temperament. Anyone less patient or savvy would scowl at him or sidestep his attitude; Aerith manages to not only accept his prickliness, but get under his skin in return.

He tries a different angle. “It still doesn’t explain why you brought me back to your house at all.”

“Is it so unbelievable that someone would offer you basic hospitality, Cloud?”

“Is it because of the Turks?” he presses, ignoring her question entirely. “What do they want?”

Aerith daintily lifts her mug to her mouth, pinky raised. “I’d tell you,” she says airily, “but then I’d have to kill you.” She punctuates her words with a wink.

“Har har.”

For someone who wears her heart openly and without fear, Aerith is very good at obscuring her secrets. Cloud feels that he will not get a better answer out of her, so he rolls his eyes, not unkindly, and sips at the rest of his coffee.

They trail into companionable silence, watching the patrons of the restaurant. Cloud finds it surprising how at ease he feels. With Tifa, they know each other well. But there was the canyon of the past five years between them, filled with questions she wanted to ask that Cloud could not and would not answer. But Aerith had been a stranger, and had her own past that she did not wish to discuss. There is comfort in knowing someone else has things to hide. She is intriguing, and Cloud finds that her secrets pull at him. He has always minded his own business — so what is it about Aerith that draws him to her?

And when did being a stranger feel more natural than becoming a friend?

Cloud tucks that thought away to consider later. For now, he enjoys the good cup of coffee and the good company. Despite the outstanding circumstances, it is almost a normal night out.

Almost.

“Last chance!” The heckler outside the colosseum waves his arms at passers-by. “Last chance to register for the competition of a lifetime! The Corneo Cup is tonight, and registration closes on the hour!”

Cloud closes his eyes and breathes in deeply. The coffee had cleared some of the fatigue from his head, but the slow creep of an exhaustion migraine has begun at his temples. Aerith brushes one of his hands with her own.

“Ready?” she asks, with an emboldening smile.

“As I’ll ever be,” is Cloud’s dour response.


End file.
